Queen of Embers

XIX. Confrontation

Sorne was about to greet Katalin when she heard a familiar tread running back towards them. Getting a proper hello in might have been nice; it had been a while, after all, and the woman in question looked world-weary. "We have a problem," Vridash said once he was near, pushing his way through the overgrown weeds that dominated the sun-drenched herb garden.

"An Ezkibel-shaped problem?" Sorne asked dryly. Behind her, Alesander was sitting on the back step of Amets's cottage, continuously smoothing out the fabric of his pants even though they lacked a wrinkle.

"His men, anyway," Vridash reported. He grimaced. "Figured it out right quick. We've got a little bit, at least. They're probably not good with undergrowth, at least not the stuff in this forest."

"He is a man who likes to be informed of things," Katalin said with a sigh. "I expect your estimations of him are not far off, Sorne. Regardless, my plan has not changed. His Highness is our prisoner and he will remain such until he is liberated or an understanding of some kind is reached with the King."

"Are you really trying to dethrone my father?" Alesander asked seriously.

Sorne sighed. "Vridash, how much did you tell him?" She knew that orcs weren't very good at subterfuge or lying. It was one of the things she admired about them, though occasionally it led to awkward situations. This wasn't too bad on the grand scheme of things. Still, that didn't make it good.

"Well, I told him that we had a blood-feud with Aldana," Vridash said, his tone almost uncharacteristically serious. "He told me some stuff too. Like about Ganix Ibarra."

The noblewoman stiffened slightly. "What about my father?" she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Alesander said, his eyes fixed on the ground so he didn't have to look at Katalin's expression. "He's dead."

Katalin took in a shuddering breath. It was a blow she'd likely been expecting, but that didn't make it less painful. "What happened?" she asked.

Sorne stepped over, putting a hand on the noblewoman's shoulder. She didn't say anything, mostly because she didn't know how Katalin handled pain like this, but she wanted to offer some kind of comfort. Even if they weren't close, the younger woman should still know that she wasn't entirely alone.

Alesander scrubbed a hand over his short hair, clearly struggling with what to say. Sorne doubted that there would be any sliver of comfort to it, even if the boy wanted to be comforting. "He was executed. They hanged him."

The words hit Katalin like a blow, even with all her bracing. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Like a common criminal," she whispered. She took a deep breath. "I...appreciate your honesty, Your Highness." The words seemed more automatic, the result of an almost irresistible drive to keep composure. "What of my family?"

Alesander swallowed hard. "Ibarra is a poisoned name now, and one that cannot be allowed to hold lands...or caste."

Sorne's fingertips pressed hard into her palms. Even disgraced nobles were still nobles, usually. They lost lands and title, but they were counted among the upper caste. If what Alesander said was true, and Sorne couldn't think of a reason why he might lie, then Katalin was no longer a noble. That did more than complicate their plans: it ruined them. Worse yet, that would mean Ezkibel was a giant leap closer to the throne, able to use Katalin's forces without fearing any contest for the throne.

Katalin looked like she was going to crumple. Vridash stepped over and engulfed her in one of his crushing bear hugs. Sorne heard tears and felt a sharp pain behind her own breastbone.

Aldana would have one more ruined life to pay for. The anger was like a thing alive inside Sorne, writhing and biting. It hurt to keep it locked away, but now was not the time or place to vent it. She looked over at Vipsania, who had been extremely quiet for the past few minutes. The soldier's expression was stone. "Vipsania?"